Nearest and Dearest has just made a rather pointed comment about my waist line, prompted mainly by the fact that he’s discovered the large bag of Minstrels squirreled away in the little cubby hole that sits between us in the car.

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I don’t think it’s my waist that bothers him too much, but the fact that I’ve managed to eat most of the chocolates without him knowing and his missed out on his share! I’ve tried explaining that I’ve actually done him a favour as it is a well known fact that middle aged men have a tendency to run to fat, unfortunately his reply is unprintable.

Anyway, we’re back on the trail of the holy mother’s remains which, according to Mr Phillips, were removed to Llanbabo church for safe keeping, during Viking raids on the island. The self-appointed guardian was Pabo, an obscure, tribal leader, whose shadowy existence was sensationally confirmed by the discovery of his tomb by grave diggers. The tomb lid, claims GM, contains references to the VM and Pabo’s role as guardian.

Breaking this news to N & D who it seems had other plans, wasn’t totally met with the unabashed enthusiasm I’d expected. I’ve had to suffer in silence while he pointed out certain shortcomings in my organisational and observational ability. It appears we rode by this church the previous day and due to the brevity of our stay on Anglesey, is not keen on going over old ground so to speak.

Fortunately, there is nothing lacking in my powers of feminine persuasion and after a bit of bribery from the choccy bag, even N & D has to agree that visiting St Pabo’s turns out to be one of the high spots of the holiday.

The church is everything you would expect in a building that seems to straddle the worlds. Situated in isolated splendor, amidst a rolling landscape it rises from the frosty mist like a veiled portal into a fey world of ritual and mysticism. For no accountable reason, a shiver shudders up my back and I feel the hairs on my neck stiffen.

The lane where we park and the church yard are eerily empty. I remember from GP’s book that when he stood here, a thunderstorm raged and he couldn’t leave fast enough! Today the fast fading mist leaves the air thin and translucent so that I expect to see it shimmer and shift, reversing time itself and passing me through the veil and the years to those long ago troubles of war and ruin.

I look at the building. Reputedly the oldest church on the island, it is a small oblong of grey stone, with an unassuming bell tower at one end. It simplicity suits the austere piety of the early Christians, but even as I think this, whispers of older gods flicker at the edge of hearing.

Above the entrance, a row of grotesque faces are set in a protective arch. I think they look Celtic, having seen similar carvings elsewhere. Then there is something strange about the grave yard. The sudden realization that it is circular sends another shiver down my spine. Could this once have been a stone circle?

So many questions and it looks as if they will remain unanswered for the church, like all the others we have encountered around the island, is locked. It’s at that moment I think the gods have begun to smile on us as a guardian angel, well two of them actually, walk through the gate.

It turns out they are local caretakers of St Pabo’s and are a fund of knowledge, although we first have to assure them that we are not third age vandals intent on an arson kick!

Unfortunately neither has a key so we still cannot enter the church, but we are led to a small side window and shown the tomb cover which is set into the far wall. It is too dim to make out any inscriptions so we have to take our guides word for what is written there. They also confirm that a rose was once held in Pabo’s hand which tallies with what GP claims in his book. The rose, apparently, symbolises the VM.

The strange carvings over the doorway were set there to ward off evil spirits, they say and the round church yard is the only one in the country and was built that way so that the devil couldn’t hide in the corners, which is a pity as this devil can’t find anywhere to escape from Nearest & Dearest to polish off the rest of these Minstels!